Poker Face
by toiletseatgirl
Summary: Gothika Pete and Miranda goodness, because it had to be done. Just because they didn't have an affair, doesn't mean nothing ever happened between them. One parter. Semiangsty. It seems to be all I'm capable of.


**

Poker Face

** Rating: PG-13  
Subject: Gothika (Pete/Miranda)  
Summary: Just because they didn't have an affair, it doesn't mean that nothing ever happened between them.  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.   
Author's notes: I haven't written anything in ages, but when I saw this movie, and these two characters, I thought "My god, the _subtext_!" They had a lot of potential, and it was just calling out to me to write what might have happened between these two at some point, while not negating anything that happens in the movie. I hope.  


______________________________

His hesitation must have spoken volumes. He hesitated when she asked him if they had ever had an affair. 

As Miranda asked the questions, images of that night (once upon a time, in a land far, far away) resurfaced in his mind. They had never discussed those events, never even acknowledged them until she decided to bring up those questions. It was something they had buried. Pete had tried countless times to repress it, anyway—after all, repression is what allowed them to survive, right? Or something like that. It never worked, of course. He didn't want it to work. 

He hadn't lied to her. No, they didn't have an affair. If that one night in question was simply erased. It didn't count, it didn't really happen. And that's how they both treated it (except for Pete's constant screenings of the memory in his head). But still, there was something between them, and for the life of him, he couldn't get passed it. It was the first time he discovered that his feelings may not be unrequited. How could he possibly get passed something like that?

***

They are hidden away in Pete's quiet little apartment. Pete has invited her there, almost on a lark. He is shocked when she agrees, almost too casually. He considers her reaction, but then tries to dismiss it. He's not going to complain or put up a fight. He enjoys being in her company, whatever that may mean on her side of things. He knows the feelings on his side are stronger than the feelings on her side. He figures she must know this as well. He is ok with that. He will never ask anything from her, with the exception of his playful (half-joking) advances. But she knows he is only kidding. It's how they usually play. He jokes about wanting to get with her, finding creative excuses each time, and she brushes him off with a laugh as if it's nothing. This is the chain of events he has come to expect, and the events that they have perfected with much practice. So when she breaks the chain, he is, undoubtedly, shocked.

But he doesn't want to analyze it. Not now. Right now he has to think up a new chain of playful events; events that she can brush off just as easily. She has come here looking to raise the stakes. And he has to keep her interested in playing. Shouldn't be too hard, he figures, since he has her all to himself in this secret little apartment on this stolen little night. 

"May I take your coat?" he offers.

Miranda says nothing, only turns her back towards him, slumping her shoulders down and allowing him to more easily remove the garment from her back. There is the small sound of Pete's throat swallowing as she leans her back in even closer to him. It is the sound made in the throat when one is trying desperately to fight the need to swallow, but inevitably failing, emitting a sound considerably more noticeable than normal. His hands, now gripping her coat, hover over her. She remains there with her arms still inside the sleeves, unmoving, just slightly longer than necessary. It suggests to him, without any real assurance, that maybe she wants to maintain that unnecessary closeness. Then she pulls away, bringing her arms out of her coat and turning around to face him._ Raise you twenty,_ he thinks to himself, imagining Miranda throwing an extra poker chip on the table.

He wants to avoid her gaze, but that is not what happens. Her eyes are heavy with suggestion, and perhaps even promise. He can't stand it. She is being cruel to him. She is giving him an unspoken offer that she knows he wants, but will ultimately have to refuse. And he feels himself already wanting to give in.

Miranda brings her mouth to just within inches of his, never breaking eye contact. "It doesn't have to go beyond this room," she whispers._ She's bluffing,_ he tells himself, _she has to be_.

He gulps again. Very noticeably. "Is there any chance it won't even reach this room?" he whispers back. His voice is almost trembling. 

She almost smiles, but suppresses it. She brings her mouth even closer to his, nearly covering it, and very well giving him the impression that that is her intention. He leans in to meet her, but she pulls away at the last moment. "If that's what you prefer," she responds._ She can see your cards. She knows what you're holding._

He shuts his eyes in the hopes that she will back away from him. Every part of him desires her, and he doesn't have the strength to push her away. Not mentally, anyway. Sure enough, he fails to feel the heat that radiates from her body dissipate. It remains consistent, refusing to move. He finally opens his eyes again, just in time to see her lips come once again razor close to his own, only too pull back just as he begins to move towards her. He groans. She smiles. Her mouth is practically dancing around his, never once touching, but always teasing him. 

Finally, he can't take it any longer. He brings his hands up to her face, and firmly holds it still as he decides to put an end to this. _See your twenty, raise you twenty-five_. She doesn't look too pleased, but it's time for her to lose the upper hand. His mouth moves towards hers, and for a moment, she lets him believe he has control. Then, once again, she breaks free and turns away at the last second, each of their lips brushing the other's ears instead. 

"That's not playing fair," she says with her lips still brushing his ear. The contact sends his blood surging, and causes a pounding in his eardrums from his rapid heartbeat. He closes his eyes and gently rubs his head against hers. For support, more than anything.

"You weren't playing fair from the start…" he manages, though his words are hoarse and cracked.

"I didn't think you minded," she explains, and then moves face to face with him again. _Call._

She has brought back that look; the look of suggestion and promise, and he figures he might as well give up then and there. _Throw up your hands and surrender, old boy,_ he thinks. _There's no use in fighting now. Be still and just let her have her way with you. It'll all be over soon enough._

Pete is furious with the present circumstance. Here he is, this moment with Miranda (that they both pretend they don't really want) has finally become very real. And he can't enjoy it because all he can concentrate on are the repercussions. How can it not go beyond this room? He knows that they both couldn't keep it that way. It will occur over and over again, in many rooms, until one day it will spill into Doug's room, with a very ill tempered (and with good cause) Doug. He doesn't even want to think about what will happen in _that_ room. He closes his eyes again, and tries to shut that thought out.

No more games on Miranda's part, it seems, as Pete feels her lips finally graze his own. His eyes flit open in surprise, and then shut again. _Strong,_ he thinks. _Her lips are unexpectedly strong, considering how petite she is._ Her mouth moves slowly against his, demanding it open to let her tongue inside. Pete obeys. No more games.

It is one kiss, and then several kisses, then one kiss again—this one to deepest yet. There are quiet moans and sighs back and forth, along with tentative hands gripping at shirts and collars. Pete feels utterly helpless in Miranda's embrace. He is at her will, and that thought terrifies him. 

His mouth involuntarily stops moving as he thinks about this. His head is swimming, his ears buzzing, his eyes blurring. Miranda slows down the kisses, pulls back just slightly, and her hands come to rest on the spot on his chest where she can feel his heart is still pounding. Their lips are now separated; it feels as though the air around them is electrically charged, somehow. Pete can feel his lips virtually humming. His breath comes out shaky and uneven. He holds onto her shoulders, once again for support more than anything.

"Christ…" he says, the word wrapped in a sigh.

"It gets better, Pete," she tells him. That's when he knows he has to end this now while there is still a shred of willpower in him. He shakes his head a little. That damned buzzing won't go away.

"No. It shouldn't have come this far," he explains, with great effort. "It has to stop here."

Miranda looks genuinely hurt, as if the magnitude of the circumstances hasn't even dawned on her and his decision has no good cause behind it. As much as the their little game is torturing him, having to turn away from it hurts a great deal more. They'll just have to go back to those empty advances. But now they really are empty, instead of being brimming with possibility but disguised as empty. He will now have to look at her every day, catch a haunting glimpse of her perfect form, or recognize a beckoning stare in her eyes, and know that it is fruitless. The opportunity has come and gone, and if he won't take it now, she won't risk it twice. This beautiful creature that he now holds in his arms will never again be in his reach.

His hands move to her hips, which are pressed up against him in the most alluring way. His hands freeze. He knows he has to push her away, but he is paralysed. She must sense that weakness, because her mouth is now on his neck and he is ready to take it all back. Who was he kidding? There is only so much a man in his state can take, and he has reached the brink of it.

__

Doug! His mind screams, r_emember? Doug, Doug, Doug!_ He snaps out of his momentary lapse and shoves her away, a little more violently than he wants to. She whimpers, almost inaudibly. He cringes.

"I'm sorry," he says, and backs away until he reaches his couch and plops down. She still stands there, awkwardly looking around, unsure of what to do or say. He needs a moment to calm his heartbeat, and ensure that he'll be able to stand close to her again without turning into putty. He needs to let the aching in his lower abdomen ease up, and then he can show her out. 

He opens the door for her and uses it like a shield to protect himself. She looks hurt, again. He looks away. She leaves without saying a word. He is alone.

Pete doesn't get much sleep that night.

***

No, they didn't have an affair. Yes, he wanted to. Yes, he thought she wanted to. The real question she wanted an answer to was why didn't they? Or rather, why did he reject her?

It was because of Doug. (_Since when do you listen to the boss?)_

It was because he didn't want her that way. He couldn't take the body without the heart… however unbearably tempting the body may have been. And as he remembered, it was pretty fucking impossible to resist. But he did.

Memories were tormenting. No matter how many times he replayed them, they always ended the same way. It ended with her leaving, feeling hurt and unwanted. And him sleeping alone. Anything he changed in his own head afterwards was just a fantasy, and just as irrelevant. He couldn't pretend it ended with her waking up beside him, both of them grinning contently, if he had the truth to dispute it.

But he managed. He worked alongside her all that time, madly in love with her. And she knew it. She had too. Maybe she didn't know how deep his feelings for her went, but she must have known that his feelings hadn't gone away after that night. They simply lay dormant, never pleading release or demonstration. Pete held on to them and tucked them away, saving them for a rainy day, perhaps. And it looked like that rainy day might present itself after all. She had said it herself: she wasn't married anymore. All he had to do was play his cards right.


End file.
